


Number 84

by FullOnLarrie



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-01-23 00:09:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12493988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FullOnLarrie/pseuds/FullOnLarrie
Summary: Reason #47: Miscommunication (Cheetos sex)Louis and Harry are best friends and roommates, though Harry has always wanted more. When he accidentally stumbles upon a written confession of Louis' true feelings for him, Harry finally takes the first step.**Sadly, no Cheetos actually appear in this fic





	Number 84

**Author's Note:**

> This was a pinch hit for 50 Reasons. 
> 
> Thank you to my wonderful beta, [Nic](http://louandhazaf.tumblr.com)!
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> **If you’d like to translate any of my fics, feel free, but please post the translation on ao3, and send me a link so that I can include it in the author’s notes.**
> 
> **Please do not post this fic or any of my other fics on any other websites.**

It’s a Saturday night and, yet again, Harry’s planning to stay in instead of going out. One by one, all of his friends have paired off into couples, and in what he likes to think of as the final straw, his old college roommate and good friend, Niall, and Louis’ best friend from high school, Liam—who got an apartment together on Harry and Louis’ suggestion that they’d be compatible roommates—recently began dating. It’s disgusting how happy everyone is.

As much as Harry likes to see happy couples, it only shines a spotlight on what he doesn’t have. And what he wants to have. With Louis. 

Sigh. 

At least they’re friends. It’s what they’ve always been and what they’ll likely only ever be, and he’s trying to be okay with the idea. And for the time being, they live together. Roommates until something better comes along. Or until Louis decides that he’s too old to have a roommate. He’ll be thirty in a few months.

Louis had an away game after school today. He’ll probably be exhausted when he gets home after teaching all day, riding the bus to the other school, coaching his team for a couple of hours, and then riding the bus home. Harry wanted to go to the game, but by the time he wrapped up the photography club meeting, it was too late. 

Harry lays down on the couch, tucks his hand behind his head, and props his feet up. There are a few things he should actually be doing right now: laundry, grading papers, washing dishes, painting his toenails… 

Instead, he’ll fuck off online for awhile. He rolls over and grabs his laptop off the coffee table. When he opens his laptop and the screen lights up, he realizes that he has Louis’ computer instead of his own. No big deal, he can scroll Tumblr just as easily from Louis’ laptop. He taps in the password and waits for it to load. There are a few tabs already open, so Harry figures he’ll just minimize the window and open a separate one so he doesn’t mess up anything Louis is working on. He freezes when he sees his name.

There’s a Google document open. It’s titled _Number 84_ and Harry’s name is right there. It’s like… It’s weird. It’s like a journal entry or something, but… maybe it’s something else because when he quickly scans the open page, he sees dialogue. He sees “Harry says” and he sees “I respond” and he sees the word “manhood” which confuses him, but then he focuses in on it and he sees that it actually says “hard, aching manhood” and his eyes go wide. 

What the fuck is this?

The document is six pages long and he’s on page three, so he scrolls to the top, but he pauses there. This is Louis’ computer. Louis’ document. Louis’ private thoughts. Louis’ private words. This is wrong. He should close the laptop and forget he even knows Louis’ password. Except… he definitely saw his own name. And he definitely saw a reference to someone’s penis. He wants to know if it’s his own penis or Louis’ or someone else’s. That’s enough to convince him to read it. Louis cannot write about someone else’s penis. Well, technically, he can. But if he’s going to, he shouldn’t do it in the same Google doc that he wrote Harry’s name. It’s unfair.

Harry only gets a few paragraphs in before his heart starts to beat a little faster, his mouth falls open, and he’s breathing harder than normal. Because this is obscene. This is… It must be Louis’ journal. And this is like, Louis’ fantasies or something. He’s literally writing down his fantasies in a Google doc. Wow. And Harry thought he was pushing it a bit to write some of his own down in the leather bound notebook he keeps in his bedside table. 

It’s captivating. Harry can’t stop reading it. Because it’s Louis’ fantasy about _Harry_ , and they’re… Well, Harry’s never really thought about shoving Louis against a wall. He’s thought about Louis shoving _him_ against a wall. Or a door. Or a car. Or the lockers after a soccer game. And it never occurred to him that Louis might want Harry to, well… take the lead. He always assumed that if anything ever happened between them, it would be because Louis decided he wanted it to. After all, Harry’s carried this crush around for years and hasn’t done a thing about it. 

Looks like he might have to. 

He keeps reading, loses himself to it, and it’s really fucking hot. 

_I’m late getting home from work on Friday and Harry is annoyed. But it’s the good kind of annoyed. The kind of annoyed that means he’s going to be a little rough with me. The kind of annoyed that makes me think I should be late a little more often. I open the door and as soon as I close it behind me, he’s right there. I can’t turn around because he’s so close, I’m trapped. He cages me in, his hands flat against the door on either side of my shoulders, his muscular chest to my back, pressing me into the door._

_“Where were you?” Harry asks, pushing his hard, aching manhood against my ass. It’s trapped in his jeans and I know he must hate that._

_“I had a meeting. It ran late,” I say, trying to act unaffected._

_He hums in my ear, then nips at my neck and I moan. He knows I can’t resist that._

Harry closes his eyes and reaches down to adjust himself in his pants. Fuck. This is unbelievable. Louis wants him. Granted, he wants him in a way that Harry’s, well, he’s willing to _try,_ but he always imagined he’d be the one being manhandled. 

He reads on. He’s not really sure he can have that many orgasms in a short amount of time. He’s almost thirty and the last time he came twice in one evening, he was actually really tired and sore the next day. But he’s willing to give it a shot, if that’s what Louis wants. 

Another few paragraphs in and he sets the laptop on the coffee table and starts digging under the cushions of the couch for a hidden bottle of lube. There's none there. He checks the little drawer in the side table. None there either. He knows he has one bottle in his room, maybe two. So he goes and gets them, sits back down on the couch with one in each hand, and stares at them for a few minutes before hiding one under the cushions and the other in the side table. 

This whole entire fantasy journal entry thing is just… really, really hot. Like, super hot. Harry is so turned on that he actually _is_ uncomfortably trapped in his jeans. He’s back and forth over whether to do anything about this. Should he say something to Louis? Admit he read his journal? Or… fuck. Should he just do it? He’s not to the end of the doc, but he scrolls back up to the top to read the beginning again. Yeah, it seems like that’s what Louis wants him to do. Fuck it. He’s going to do it. 

But first he’s going to finish reading Louis’ journal entry. 

After they both come a few times, they somehow make it to one of their bedrooms. Harry’s not clear which, though he thinks it’s his because of the description of the blue sheets. And while the entire thing was incredible to read, the end is his favorite part. Because when it’s over, when they’re both “sated and spent” and lying on Harry’s bed, they stay that way. They cuddle up—again, not the way Harry would really want since he would rather be the little spoon—and they fall asleep together. The very last line is what seals the deal.

_As I lay there held tightly in Harry’s strong arms, I feel so happy, so content. He laces our fingers together and pulls me closer and just before I fall asleep I murmur, “I love you, Harry.”_

It literally brings tears to his eyes. 

Louis loves him.

Now he’s conflicted. Because he wants to sit down with Louis and talk to him. Tell him that he feels the same. Ask him to be his boyfriend. Take him on dates. Make him dinner. 

Make him dinner.

Thirty minutes later, Harry’s thrown together a quick dinner, showered, changed his sheets, and searched until he found a condom in the back of Louis’ bedside table drawer. He’s already read his journal, what’s a little more privacy violation at this point. He’s still half-hard, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about Louis wanting him like this, and his mind keeps replaying the scenes from Louis’ fantasy. He dresses the way Louis described him in his fantasy—his black jeans and a blue t-shirt. He does as many push-ups as he can to make his chest and arm muscles stand out. He’s ready. Now, he just has to wait patiently for Louis to come home because he actually _is_ late. 

Harry hears him outside in the hall and his heart starts to beat wildly in his chest, he suddenly feels hot and sweaty and very unsure if he can follow through, so he jumps up and runs to the kitchen for a glass of water. He’s wiping his mouth with the back of his hand when Louis opens the door and drops his keys in the dish. His hair is wet and he carries the scent of his shampoo into the room with him.

Harry closes his eyes. He can do this.

“Hey,” Louis says and drops his bag on the couch. “How was your day?” He stretches his arms overhead and when Harry sees his belly button, he remembers that Louis wants him to lick it, and that gets him started.

He’ll just… follow the script, so to speak. “Where were you?”

“Showered in the locker room. I was fucking gross. That bus has no air conditioning. Glad I did, too, because I was really tired and I’m a bit more awake now.” No, no, no. This isn’t right. Louis is already halfway between the door and the couch and coming closer to the kitchen. Harry looks around. There’s probably enough space beside the fridge to push Louis up against the wall. Right. Okay. “Did you make dinner? Smells good.”

Louis kicks his shoes in the direction of the living room and Harry takes a deep breath. It’s go time. His hands are shaking uncontrollably, he feels a little bit sick to his stomach, he’s so fucking nervous that he thinks he might just push Louis out of the way and make a run for it. But then Louis steps into the kitchen and smiles and Harry remembers that _this is what Louis wants._

And that’s all it takes.

“Pasta?” Louis asks and takes another step closer to the two plates sitting on the counter.

Harry balls his fists and squeezes, digging his nails into the palms of his hands, then turns, grabs Louis by the shoulders and pushes him backwards until he hits the wall. Maybe a little too hard because he frowns and reaches up to rub the back of his head.

“Ouch. What the fuck, Harry?”

“Um…” Harry pulls him away from the wall and spins him around, pushing him again. This time Louis is a little better prepared and manages to catch himself with his hands against the wall before his face hits. “Um…” He’s fucking it up. Ugh. Why did there have to be dialogue in this fantasy.

“Harry?”

Fuck it. Harry leans over and kisses the side of Louis’ neck, right above the collar of his shirt, and Louis stills. He steps closer and rests his hands on top of Louis’ where they’re flat against the wall, threads their fingers together, and kisses his neck again, closer to his ear. 

Louis whispers, “Oh” and tilts his head to the side, so Harry kisses him again and again. Soft, light kisses up his neck to his ear. He nips at it and hums, and Louis moans. Just like in his journal. Harry’s forgetting things. What is he supposed to do next? He presses closer to Louis’ back and wonders if Louis can tell he did so many push-ups earlier, if he can feel the muscles or not. He seems to be really into that, even though Harry’s really not a muscular guy. He _does_ have a dick and it _is_ hard, so the next part is easy. Louis is wearing sweatpants, so when Harry rubs himself against Louis’ ass, he knows that Louis can feel him.

“Harry?”

“Yeah,” Harry mumbles into Louis’ neck and scrapes his teeth on his skin. Louis shivers and squeezes Harry’s fingers, pushing back against Harry’s dick.

“Nothing. Never mind. I was just…” Louis groans when Harry gently sucks on his neck. “Just… wondering where this came from.”

“Giving you what you want.”

“Oh.” Louis nods and Harry untangles their fingers and spins him around, planting his hands on the wall again. “How did you know—”

“Later,” Harry says and leans closer. He wants so much to do it like Louis wants him to, but it’s their first kiss. First kisses aren’t rough and demanding and sure, at least Harry’s first kisses aren’t like that, and Louis’ eyes are searching his face for… something. Harry catches his gaze and holds it, slowly moving towards him until the tips of their noses are almost touching, then he tilts his head and brushes his slightly parted lips against Louis’ mouth. Just that little bit of contact has Harry’s already out of control heartbeat skyrocketing and when Louis gently rests his hands on Harry’s waist and huffs a breath against his lips, Harry can practically taste him. It’s enough to draw him further in, enough to make him feel a little more confident, enough to get him to close his eyes and lightly pull Louis’ lower lip between his own. 

As soon as he does that, Louis’ grip on his sides tightens and he starts to push back, opening his mouth and slipping his tongue inside. Harry groans and steps closer, taking one hand from the wall to curl it around the back of Louis’ neck. It’s an amazing first kiss, yet all Harry can think is that he’s not doing it right, so he concentrates and forces his mouth away from Louis’ so that he can suck on his neck and leave a mark the way Louis apparently desperately wants him to. 

Except Louis pushes Harry away. 

“Can’t… You can’t do that.” Louis drops his head back against the wall and looks at Harry through half closed eyes. “It’s too fucking hot outside for me to wear scarves and turtlenecks to school.”

Harry nods and dives in for another kiss. Maybe Louis’ fantasy takes place in winter. While Harry’s mind wanders over seasonally appropriate fantasies, Louis pulls him closer by his hips, slides his hands around and grabs Harry’s ass, taking him by surprise and pulling a gasp from him when Harry feels Louis’ erection through his pants. He needs to focus or he’s going to fuck it up. He’s supposed to be pushing Louis to his knees and fucking his mouth, but… he really doesn’t want to. He wouldn’t mind it the other way around, but there’s no time to explain that to Louis. He’ll just have to improvise. 

While he ruts against Louis’ hip and kisses his neck, he works his hand under the elastic waist of Louis’ sweatpants and slides his hand over his ass and just for a second he thinks his heart completely stops because it’s _Louis’ ass,_ the like, holy grail of asses in Harry’s opinion. He’s always wanted to touch it and never thought he’d get the chance and _—holy shit—_ Louis isn’t wearing underwear. Harry can’t help it, as quickly as he can, he slides his other hand inside Louis’ pants and with one ass cheek in each hand, he squeezes and lifts Louis up a little bit, pulling him closer. Louis’ dick presses against Harry’s hip, drawing a moan out of Louis that Harry thinks he’d probably like to hear daily for the rest of his life.

His ass is so warm in Harry’s hands, so round and firm and Harry really wants to bite it and kiss it and lick it, but maybe another time. With his hands still inside Louis’ pants, he pushes them down, catching the elastic waist on Louis’ dick so that it pops up when he finally pulls his pants the rest of the way off his ass and lets them drop to the floor. It’s like instinct almost, Harry wraps his fingers around Louis and starts to pump him slowly, while trying to memorize the feel of Louis in his hand. He rests his temple on Louis’ shoulder, presses his forehead against his neck, and takes in every breathy moan that Louis makes when Harry rubs his thumb over the tip of his dick. Louis sounds so good, so fucking hot, that Harry is pretty sure he could come in his pants just from listening to him, but it seems like he won’t get to find out because Louis starts scrabbling at Harry’s pants, and somehow unzips them and pulls them down to the middle of Harry’s thighs in one motion, all while Harry’s still jacking him off. 

It’s too much. When the back of Louis’ hand grazes the underside of Harry’s cock through the fabric of his boxers, his body jerks forward, knocking Louis’ hand against Harry’s where it’s circling his dick. Louis chuckles and Harry lifts his head from Louis’ shoulder grinning and scrunching his nose.

“Fine, then.” Louis smirks. “Drop your pants, Harry.”

With his free hand, Harry attempts to do just that, though they get stuck on his erection. Louis takes pity on him and helps him pull them down the rest of the way, immediately gripping Harry and matching the rhythm of Harry’s strokes. From there it’s a tangle of limbs and a flurry of kisses and Harry’s pretty sure he time travels or something because it feels like it’s over in seconds even though they’re both sweaty and flushed and panting against each other’s cheeks while they stare down at the mess of come all over both of their bellies, their clothes, and the floor.

Harry tries to get it together enough to speak, but he’s still gathering his thoughts when Louis clears his throat and says, “So… You made pasta?” and Harry snorts in his ear.

“Yeah, I, um, thought you might be hungry.”

“Might be. Might be wondering what the fuck brought all this on.” Louis finally drops his hands from Harry’s waist and gestures at what can only be called the aftermath of their evening together so far.

Harry takes a step backwards and pulls off his t-shirt, using it to wipe them both as clean as he can before bending down to pull Louis’ sweatpants up for him, placing a gentle kiss on the head of his dick on his way back to standing, kicking off his own jeans, and pulling his boxers up.

“Okay. I… I don’t want you to be mad, but if you are, I get it.” Harry bites his lower lip and looks over towards the couch where he left Louis’ laptop. “I want you to know that, um, it wasn’t… It was an accident.”

“What was?” Louis asks quietly and reaches out to grab for Harry’s hand.

“I read your journal. It was open on your laptop and—”

“I don't have a journal.” Louis’ eyebrows draw together and he tips his head to the side. “What are you talking about?”

Harry closes his eyes for a second, then opens them, but he keeps looking at the laptop instead of Louis. “I thought it was my laptop and then I thought it didn’t matter because yours was right there and mine was in my bag and I just wanted to fuck off on Tumblr and there was a Google doc open and I tried to open a new window, but I saw my name and… I’m sorry.”

Louis looks up and purses his lips and Harry prepares himself for the worst. He invaded Louis’ privacy and Louis might never forgive him. Louis drops his head back down and squints, a tiny smile playing on his lips. “Your name, hmm? What else did you read?”

“Oh.” Harry’s eyes go wide and he scrambles to think of a way to explain it, but there’s really no way around it. “I… You… Well, there was like a whole fantasy scene between us and, fuck, it was really hot and I never knew! I didn’t know you… you liked me like that? I had no clue, but when I read it, I was freaking out because I like you too. So much.” Harry closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, it’ll be easier to say the rest if he can’t see Louis. “I love you, actually. Have for so long and it just… It took me reading your journal—sorry! Whatever you want to call it is fine. But it took me reading your, um, fantasy? And reading what you wanted me to do to you and that you loved me too for me to… I don’t know, make a move.” Finally, Harry opens his eyes and asks, “Did I do it right?” 

Louis’ face is pink, both of his hands are covering his mouth, and his eyes are darting back and forth, but he nods and Harry exhales with relief. “It’s… I… fuck. Okay, first of all, I do love you. Wanted to ask you out so many times, but we’re roommates and I didn’t want to fuck it up. I thought… I don’t know. I guess I thought I’d rather have you as my friend than as nothing?”

Harry grins and shuffles closer, backing Louis into the kitchen wall again, and presses a kiss into his cheek before whispering, “Me too. All of that. It’s the same for me.”

“That’s good, baby.” Louis drags his hands up Harry’s back and lightly scratches the skin between his shoulder blades, just the way Harry likes. “But… Okay. Don’t freak out, but that… thing you read? The fantasy? It’s not about you.”

Harry jerks back, but Louis holds him tightly and he can’t go far. “Not—”

“It’s fan fic.”

“What?”

“I, um… Well, first of all, I’m sorry I never told you this before, but now that this,” he pulls Harry closer until their hips bump together, “is happening—especially how it happened—I want you to know.”

“What, Lou? You’re… I don’t…” Harry shakes his head. He got it all wrong. Louis didn’t write all of that about him. His stomach is swirling with nerves and he’s starting to feel lightheaded.

“I write Drarry fanfic. You know? Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy?”

“You what?”

“Don’t make fun.”

“I’m not! I don’t understand. If you didn’t want this, why didn’t you stop me. Why…”

“I do, Harry! I do want this. You. I do. I meant what I said. I love you. I just… Honestly, I should thank the mods for doing this fest.”

Louis loves him. That’s good, but this is fucking weird. Harry’s brain is on overload and he can barely process anything at all, so he just stares at Louis, waiting for things to makes sense. Louis must understand how badly he’s struggling because he rubs his hands down Harry’s back and reaches for his arms. 

“Come in here,” Louis says and tugs Harry behind him out into the living room. He pushes Harry down to sit on the couch and climbs into his lap, then flips open his laptop. He opens the doc that Harry read earlier and points to the title. _“Number 84_ is the prompt and the title.” 

Harry frowns. “But—”

“Shh… Listen to me.” Louis leans in and kisses him softly. “What’s in this Google doc doesn’t change anything, okay? I want to… I want to be with you. Be your boyfriend. Okay?”

Harry’s frown disappears and he can’t help the smile that takes over his face when he nods and kisses Louis back.

“You know I love all things Harry Potter.” Louis looks at him like he’s waiting for confirmation, so Harry nods. “Well, I write fanfiction and I’m doing this writing fest where we get assigned one of a hundred prompts and mine’s eighty-four.”

Harry nods again, and though he’s still not sure what’s going on, he’s starting to understand that what he read earlier wasn’t about _him_ Harry, but about _Harry Potter_ Harry.

“Anyway, my prompt was supposed to be written from Draco’s point of view, but in first person, which is really hard for me to do, but I tried. Just have to send it to my beta before I can post it.”

“Wait, so… You don’t want me to do all that stuff to you?”

Louis shakes his head and smiles.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, it’s… It’s just a story.” Louis pauses and chews on his lower lips for a few seconds before asking, “Is that okay?”

“What? Yeah, it’s okay. I didn’t really want to like… push you around and stuff. I’d rather you p—” Harry clamps his mouth shut and closes his eyes tight.

Louis chuckles and rubs his hands up and down Harry’s bare arms, then cradles his face, and asks sweetly, “You want me to do stuff like that to you?”

Harry nods before he can really consider it and can feel his face flaming.

“I’d love to, baby. We can talk about it later, okay?” Louis kisses Harry’s forehead and the tip of his nose before pressing their lips together. “Let’s eat dinner first.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> If you'd like to share, here's the rebloggable [Tumblr post](http://fullonlarrie.tumblr.com/post/168896416345/number-84-by-fullonlarrie-reason-47).


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